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Chapter Thirty-One
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0910 Local
Harm watched as Singer strode rapidly back and forth. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot he could say to make her feel any better. Still, they had at least three hours - maybe some sort of escape plan could be devised. He shook his head in disgust, he thought he'd had this taken care of with Trask. The man was turning out to be a real psychopath and predicting his next move was becoming damn near impossible.
"Lieutenant," Harm began tentatively, "You're wearing yourself to a frazzle. Sit down for a minute, maybe we can figure something out."
Lauren threw up her hands while she continued to pace, "Figure what out? That lunatic is going to SELL me! Goddammit!! As far as I can tell, my only choices will be dying or wishing I was dead. Unless, of course, you've put together some wonderfully brilliant plan to escape?" She stopped and glared at him. Harm gazed silently back. Most of his hopes were based on help arriving in time - and there were no guarantees. Lauren snorted, "That's what I thought. So spare me your sympathy and the mindless morale-boosting. Things *are* as bad as they seem!"
The door to their room banged open. Reverend Trask stood in the doorway, scowling, "You two have been lying to me."
Harm glanced at Singer. "You're wrong, Lieutenant," he breathed, "Things are worse."
Vicinity of Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0905 Local
Mac leaned up against the trunk of a tree and looked over at Walters, "This is where you get off, Gunny." They could just see some of the outbuildings in the distance. "You're sure you can find the Admiral?"
Walters gave a small smile, "Piece of cake, ma'am." He was silent a moment and then said, "Are you sure this has to be done? How do you know they won't kill all of you? The Feds should be here in a couple of hours or so. Can't we just wait?"
Mac studied the ground at her feet before looking back up at Walters. "Yes, I'm pretty sure it has to be done this way and no, we can't wait." She exhaled in frustration as she turned her head to stare at the camp, "I can't explain it, call it woman's intuition or maybe just monumental ego, but Harm and Lauren won't have a couple of hours unless I'm there. I don't think they'll kill me, they went to a lot of trouble to get me here in the first place." She looked back down at her feet, but not before Gunny caught the bleak expression in her eyes. "I think I know why they want me and it will be to their advantage to keep me as healthy as possible... ." She paused and then looked up and smiled, "It's probably a good thing I can't run. Otherwise, I think I'd be in Canada by now." Mac pushed herself off the tree, "Time's a-wasting, Gunny. Go find the Admiral."
Walters gazed at her for a moment before coming to attention and saluting. Startled, Mac returned it reflexively. Then she smiled and flapped her hand at him, "Gunny... Shoo."
"Yes ma'am." Turning, he headed deeper in the woods. He paused after a couple of steps, looking back over his shoulder and grinning, "When you feel the aftershock, you'll know I found the Admiral." Mac watched until he disappeared into the underbrush and then resolutely turned towards the militia camp.
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0918 Local
Harm turned towards the Reverend and with a calm he was far from feeling, said, "I beg your pardon?" He was peripherally aware of Singer tensing at his words.
Trask stomped further into the room and leaned menacingly towards Harm, "According to the both of you, Colonel MacKenzie is dead, correct? That was quite a convincing little act you two put on - I told my men to stop searching. No point in wasting time and energy, right? So you may imagine my surprise when a routine patrol stumbles across one of my men bound and gagged. We thought he had deserted... and he had the most interesting story to tell. Would you like to hear it?"
Harm nodded numbly. Son of a bitch! There was no doubt in his mind who the militia man had run into. Perez was supposed to get Mac away from these lunatics!
"It seems he came across Colonel MacKenzie, alive and well; but before he could bring her in, he was assaulted by a number of her associates. They discussed killing him outright but he managed to convince them not to and they tied him up instead." Trask folded his arms and glared at the Commander, "Remarkable behavior for a corpse, wouldn't you say? How many men did you bring with you?"
Outwardly relaxed, Harm even managed to chuckle ruefully, "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that the Colonel is still alive." Both Trask and Singer stared at him. "That is a pretty remarkable story, Reverend, and it's only fair to to say that at least part of it is true. Tell me, have you ever seen Colonel MacKenzie?"
Trask shook his head suspiciously, "What difference would that possibly make?"
Harm smiled slightly, "The Colonel is an extremely attractive woman, something that tends to make men overlook the fact that she is also a fully trained Marine. I'd be surprised if the only thing your man thought of when he saw her, was to bring her in." He waited a moment to let that idea sink in, "Tell him he's pretty lucky, Mac killed the last man who tried to assault her. Gutted him with his own knife."
Trask stared at Rabb, nonplussed. This was not the way he had imagined the conversation would go. He had expected angry denials and self-righteous counterclaims of lying. The Commander's theory was plausible: Rufe Martin was a pig in every sense of the word, attempted rape wouldn't be out of the question. Giving himself a mental shake, he scowled at Rabb, "The fact remains that the two of you lied. Why should I believe anything you say now?"
Aware that he was splitting hairs, Harm said carefully, "We didn't lie to you. We lied to Captain Koslov. I'd have done whatever was necessary to keep Colonel MacKenzie out of that bastard's hands. Afterwards, when I realized that you were actually in charge, I'm afraid I just didn't know how to bring it up." He inclined his head, "I apologize for that."
The Reverend looked at Harm for a long moment and then began to pace the room. Once again, he'd been reminded of just how clever and dangerous Rabb was. He found he liked the man, if nothing else than for the intellectual challenge. He was well aware the Commander could still be lying to him. He amended that: was still lying to him. The question was: did the risk outweigh the possible benefits of keeping him alive? He had hopes of manipulating Rabb into helping keep Koslov's supply line open and possibly expanding it as well. Now he was beginning to feel the whole idea was futile. Finally, he stopped pacing and sighed. He looked over at Harm, "I accept your apology and in return, offer one of my own." He turned and looked at Preston, "Kill him."
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0925 Local
Tink threw another shovelful of dirt over his shoulder and then paused for a moment. He watched with a certain amount of malicious glee as Liston and Thomason sweated and cursed as they, too, continued to dig. Trask had assigned all three to ditch-digging for the foreseeable future. There was some justice in the world after all. It was about time those two got to share in the work.
He didn't pay attention to the voices at first. Even as the volume increased, he didn't think anything of it. No doubt another fistfight had broken out and now bets were being made. Then the timbre changed and suddenly alarm bells were going off in his head. In one fluid motion, Tink was out of the ditch and striding towards the noise, ignoring Liston's angry protest. He'd heard the sound of an out-of-control mob before.
He rounded the corner of a building, shovel still in hand, and looked out upon a chaotic scene. With the advantage of his height, Tink was able to see over most of the milling crowd towards the center where a melee was taking place. His mouth dropped open in shock when he saw a grim-faced Col. MacKenzie in the midst of the maelstrom. She and her two lone defenders were being pushed, shoved and pummeled as the increasingly frenzied crowd surged around them. Suddenly, in a flurry of movement, all three disappeared from sight.
With a roar, Tink waded in swinging shovel and fist in murderous abandon. In seconds, the mob's attention was divided as the men closest to the oncoming juggernaut fought and clawed to get out of his path. It took him several minutes to work his way to the center; even though a path had more or less opened in front as men scrambled frantically out of his way. He lurched into the small, clear area and took in the tableau that had frozen upon his arrival. Of Mac's two defenders, one was facedown and unmoving and the other sat holding his head. The Colonel was pinned to the ground by three men while a fourth man stood just in front. His hands were still on his pants and his leering grin was fast fading into panic-stricken shock as he stared at Tink.
With surprising swiftness, Tink closed the gap between them and one massive hand wrapped around the man's throat. Almost beside himself with rage, he tightened his grip and lifted the man off the ground. He watched the man's eyes bulge as his face turned dark red and then heaved him as hard as he could into the crowd. Two of the other men had used the opportunity to flee into the mob. The third pulled out a large hunting knife and lunged at Tink's back only to stumble when Mac kicked at his legs as he passed. Tink pivoted as the man recovered and renewed his attack. Swinging the shovel, Tink caught him with an edge, causing the man to drop the knife as his forearm was laid open. Stepping in quickly, Tink brought his fist down on top of the man's head, dropping him in a heap.
The mob stood in shocked silence as he reached down and hauled Mac to her feet. "Move," was all he rumbled as he propelled her down the still-open path. In a very few moments, the crowd was going to come out of its daze and he needed to find a defensible position. They had just cleared the edges when he heard the low, ominous growl. Grabbing the Colonel by the upper arm, he practically lifted her off her feet as he sprinted the last few yards to the side of a building. It wasn't ideal, but it would do. Leaning her up against the wall, he turned around and placed himself in front, glaring at the mob as they surged forward. Tink took a couple of swings with the shovel and then stood poised and ready.
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0931 Local
Harm sat frozen as he watched Preston step forward. With all the dangerous situations he'd managed to walk away from, to die now seemed almost ludicrous. He stared at Trask, who was standing by the door with the other guard. If he could somehow separate them, maybe he'd have a chance. He allowed a note of outrage to creep into his voice, "Just like that? That's all you have to say? 'Kill him?' You may as well have been ordering lunch."
The Reverend blinked, "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Harm snapped, "And what about Lt. Singer? You were just going to shoot me in front of her? You realize how messy that can get? At least show some concern for her feelings, what kind of gentleman are you?"
By now, everyone in the room was looking at him like he was nuts. He really didn't care. Trask was a psychopath, without a doubt, but one with particular ideas and a certain twisted sense of chivalry. Harm crossed his arms over his chest and continued to glare at the Reverend. In a voice icy with disdain, he said, "I thought southern men were raised better than that."
Trask's jaw clenched as his face reddened. With a sudden jerk of his hand, he growled, "Take the Lieutenant back to her quarters and stay there until I send for you."
The guard had just reached for Singer's arm, when they all heard a commotion in the hallway. Moments later, a skinny, pasty-faced man burst into the room. Harm groaned to himself, he'd been so close! His attention was riveted along with the rest, when the man began to babble excitedly, "Reverend! You have to come quick! It's turning into a riot, that big guy is going berserk!"
Trask regarded the man impatiently, "What are you blathering about, Humphrey?"
Humphrey took a breath, "One of the patrols found the other woman and while they were bringing her here they started attracting a crowd. Some of the boys have had a little too much beer and things started getting rowdy. Then that really big guy got all excited, waded in and started swinging and now things are completely out of hand. You've got to come, Reverend! Right now!"
Without another word, Trask pivoted and marched out, followed by his two guards and Humphrey. The door slammed shut and there was the sound of a bolt sliding home. Harm and Singer stared at each other.
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0940 Local
The crowd in front milled about uncertainly, no one wanted to be the first to take the big man on. The rumbling grew louder as those in the back started pushing forward, trying to force the confrontation. Tink waited impassively, he knew at some point they would either rush him en masse or someone would realize he wasn't bulletproof.
Abruptly, the mob grew quiet. Tink could see the ripple and swirl through the crowd that meant someone was coming through. Finally, Reverend Trask strode angrily into the open no-man's land between Tink and the mob, flanked by his guards. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked in a soft, deadly tone.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0940 Local
Trask's gaze swept over the mob. The men in front were silent, most looking like they'd rather be anywhere else. He turned and looked at Tink standing stolidly in front of a slender brunette. Dust-covered and disheveled, she was leaning against the building. Trask suspected from the way she was standing, it was the only thing keeping her upright. The look on her face surprised him. It wasn't fear but rather a grim resignation, she clearly expected no quarter. Despite the circumstances, the Reverend found himself agreeing with Rabb, she was extremely attractive. That made it rather simple to deduce what had happened; in spite of Humphrey's apparent attempt to downplay the situation.
Mac watched warily as the black-clad man strode into the open. Tall and lean, with dark eyes and a patrician nose, he exuded authority. Judging from the uneasy shifting and looks from the crowd, he was someone to fear as well. She had braced herself against the building Tink had chosen for their last stand. The last ten minutes had left her reeling physically and emotionally. She had tried to prepare herself for what she thought was coming, but those preparations hadn't included an attempted gang rape in the middle of a riot. The last thing she had expected was Corporal Bell to come to her rescue. Now, she did her best to hide her trepidation while she waited on the next development.
Although the Reverend stood motionless, it was the deadly stillness of a predator. As the silence stretched out, the crowd began to grow restive. Still, he waited. Nerves stretched taut, more of crowd began to fidget and grumble. Trask remained as he was, ignoring the murmuring. Encouraged, the mob grew more animated until finally, two of Mac's attackers pushed their way through to stand in front of the Reverend in righteous indignation.
"You hafta do somethin' bout thet big ox, Mr. Trask!" the first one said. "He's some kinda homicidal maniac! He liketa choked me to death an it was purely luck I dinn't break my neck the way he threw me! He had no cause to do us thet way, we was jes havin' a little fun. Thet big, dumb summabitch got all het up ov'r nothin! No suh! He's too damn dangerous to have around. Got no more brains than a stump an damn mean to boot! Look what he done to Steve! Laid his arm right open an concussed him too. No suh, Mr. Trask, it ain't right!" He ran out of steam and stood looking at the Reverend with a kind of hopeful self-pity. The men closest to him muttered in sympathetic agreement while glaring balefully at Tink and Mac.
Trask eyed the two of them, "Where's the patrol that found the Colonel?"
The two stared at each other for a moment and then Steve jerked his head towards the back, "They's back there a ways, Reverend." He pointed at Tink, "That bastard done them like he done us."
Trask blinked once and then slowly turned his head towards Tink, "Did you?"
Tink had been standing like he was carved from granite. He looked at the Reverend and simply said, "No."
Folding his arms, Trask regarded Tink for a long moment. He quelled the loud variations of 'He's lyin' with a single look. The crowd shifted uncomfortably. "Why did you attack them?"
Slowly, Tink scowled, "They were going to rape her." He shifted his gaze to the two men and let some of the anger chase across his face. They both took inadvertent steps backward.
Trask nodded, "I believe you're right." He held up his hand to stop the angry protests from the mob and glanced over at his two guards. He arched an eyebrow and nodded towards the two men. Preston nodded in return, stepped forward and fired two quick bursts. The Reverend looked at the bodies and then up at the mob that was scrambling frantically backwards. The ones in front froze as they made eye contact with him. The rest slowly ground to halt when they realized the firing had stopped. Trask waited until the silence was complete. He let his gaze rove over the crowd once more and then said in clearly enunciated words, "Never lie to me."
With that, he turned and smiled at Mac, "Colonel MacKenzie? Would you come with me, please?" He raised an eyebrow at Tink, "As the Colonel's self-appointed guardian, Mr. Tinker, perhaps you would give her a hand?"
Mac stared at him in bewilderment and then looked at Tink as he turned towards her. He gave a slight shrug as he placed a hand under her elbow. He thought all the militia men were a little nuts, that the leader was nuttier than all the rest put together had a certain poetic justice.
The Reverend gestured towards a building and then fell into step beside them. His men trailed behind. "I'm afraid we've been laboring under a misapprehension about you Colonel. Otherwise, I'm sure we would have made your acquaintance sooner."
Mac concentrated on walking, the off-balance feeling was only partially physical. He'd had two men killed without blinking and he'd done it because they had lied, not because of the attempted rape. Now he was playing the genteel host? She took a deep breath to settle her nerves and then said calmly, "I'm afraid you have the advantage of me, Mr. ... ?"
"I beg your pardon, ma'am. Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Reverend John Phillips Trask. The two gentlemen behind us are Mr. Preston and Mr. Harper and, of course, you've met Mr. Tinker." They reached the building and stopped. Trask glanced over his shoulder and Harper scurried forward to open the door. Gallantly gesturing for Mac to precede him, they entered the building. Talking was necessarily curtailed as they negotiated the hallway. Finally, they came to a halt in front of a closed and bolted door. Trask smiled, "I'll leave you to get freshened up, Colonel, although I must apologize in advance. The only clothes around here are uniforms, but at least they're clean. Might I request your company at lunch?" Mac nodded silently. "Good, good. I'll leave you then. I'm afraid work just piles up when I'm away from my desk." He looked at Tink, "Why don't you stay here and help keep watch? I suspect the boys are a tad exercised about you at the moment. We'll give them a couple of hours to cool down."
Tink said equably, "Okay, Mr. Trask." He paused for a moment and then said uncertainly, "What do I do?" Mac stifled a smile, Tyler had been right. Bell's performance as a slow-witted giant was award-winning.
Trask smiled benignly, while behind him, Preston and Harper rolled their eyes, "You just watch and make sure no one goes in or out of the room. Harper will be happy to give you a hand... " He raised his voice slightly, "... won't you, Mr. Harper?" Startled, Harper hurriedly said yes. "Well then, why don't you open the door for the Colonel?" He smiled apologetically at Mac with a slight shrug, "I look forward to lunch, ma'am." With that, he went back down the hallway, trailed by Preston. Harper unbolted the door and with a curt motion, gestured her inside.
Harm pivoted towards the door when he heard the bolt slide back. He gestured for Singer to stand behind him. Realistically, there wasn't much he could do but it was automatic to try to protect those under his command. Later, when he thought about it, he realized he shouldn't have been shocked. In the back of his mind, he knew it was a definite possibility - knowledge that hadn't helped in the least. Unfortunately, his first words when he saw Mac were, 'Goddammit, what the hell is the matter with you?!' He stared morosely at a spot on the wall. It might not have been that bad if he'd stopped there, but no, he'd kept right on ranting. Some of it was probably caused by the stress of having almost been killed himself, but he just couldn't seem to stop. In the end, it had been Singer, of all people, who'd finally gotten him to shut up. Through all of it, Mac had just stood there, never saying a word.
In the silence following his tirade, she'd quietly asked Singer to give her a hand and both women had disappeared into the bathroom. Shortly afterward, he'd heard the shower. It had gone off a little while ago, eventually they would have to come out. On one level, he desperately wanted to see Mac again so he could try to apologize. On another, he wasn't sure he was ready to face them. Apparently, he had transcended mundane male stupidity and caused detente between the two in defense of gender. He was toast.
Singer leaned against the sink and waited for the Colonel to finish her shower. If she lived to be a hundred, she would never figure these two out. She'd been more relieved than surprised when MacKenzie had walked through that door. Harm's initial outburst hadn't really shocked her, they were obviously best friends, so it was understandable that his worry would make him snappish. It was when he didn't stop that she finally became irritated in her own right. Typical male, busily belaboring the point without any apparent thought of the consequences or of the effect of his words. Also typically male, the Colonel's appearance apparently failed to register as well. It was obvious, to Lauren at least, that MacKenzie's arrival hadn't been without incident. In the end, in as venomous a tone as she could muster, she'd told him to shut up. To her everlasting surprise, he had. When the Colonel had asked for her assistance, she'd been happy to get out of the way of any possible repercussions.
Lauren had never put a whole lot of credence in the rumor mill concerning these two. But then, she seldom believed anything she didn't verify herself. It didn't stop her from making a mental note to keep her eyes and ears open in case of inappropriate behavior, but so far, nothing had turned up that would help her. With everything that had happened lately, Singer was reassessing her disbelief of the stories of their past exploits together. One thing she was sure of, if the Admiral ever suggested she work with these two again on an investigation, she would step in front of a oncoming bus. It would be infinitely safer. Lauren paused and blinked, when had she started thinking they would survive this? Her train of thought was interrupted when the shower finally turned off. She picked up a towel and handed it over when the Colonel pushed the shower curtain aside.
Mac stood motionless under the showerhead and let the water cascade over her. One never appreciated the amenities until forced to do without. She felt like she'd been wearing half the state of Mississippi. Too bad she couldn't rinse the aches and pains away as easily. Resolutely, she veered away from this latest incident with Harm. Dealing with that on top of the attempted rape was more than she could bear at the moment. The reality of how close it had been was finally hitting home. What she wanted to do was curl up in a ball somewhere and cry herself silly. That wasn't going to happen, so all she could do was suck it up and keep moving. If they managed to get through this, it would be one more thing for her therapist to deal with. Mac sighed, she was going to have to put that poor woman on retainer. Singer's support had come as a surprise but she wasn't about to look a gift Lieutenant in the mouth. She needed help getting cleaned up and a willing Singer was a helluva lot better than a surly one.
She reached over and turned off the shower. Mac had expected something a little more primitive but the Lieutenant told her that this building had been originally built as a bed and breakfast type establishment for visiting sportsmen. The venture had gone nowhere and the Reverend had acquired the property for taxes. He used it as the nucleus for his militia camp. Lauren had gotten her information from Koslov. It had been the one less-than-derogatory thing he'd had to say about Trask. Mac shivered involuntarily, Koslov's death would have left her relieved if not for the growing fear of the Reverend. The man was crazy.
Pulling the shower curtain open, Mac accepted the towel Lauren offered and gingerly began drying herself off. There were several new bruises and abrasions to add to the collection. The slash on her side had split open here and there, but it was minor and definitely on the mend. Right now her major source of pain was the broken collarbone. She was beginning to think there was a contest going on to see how often she could thump that shoulder into the ground. It ached abominably. There'd been a small first aid kit in the cabinet under the sink. They'd used the solitary Ace bandage to try to immobilize her shoulder again. It wasn't much, but it was something. With the Lieutenant's help, she climbed into the clean clothes. They made her feel nearly human. Flashing Singer a brief smile of gratitude, Mac mentally braced herself and walked back into the room.
Harm turned around when he heard the bathroom door open. Mac came out first. It looked like Lauren had found clothing that fit among the stack of uniforms that had been dropped off earlier for their use. He watched her nervously, trying to gauge how angry she might be and realized she was regarding him equally warily. Singer contented herself with laying back a safe distance and glaring. Harm stepped forward, knowing Mac, it would be up to him to make the first move. It was going to be difficult enough because he was also going to have to be careful of what he said in front of Singer. That definitely killed one method of apology. Taking a deep breath, he spread his hands and started, "Mac... "
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